Wonder Woman and Superman in Letters of Life, of Love
by NWHS
Summary: A Diana and Clark Valentine's Day fic.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Wonder Woman and Superman, A Valentine's Day Fic**

**Author: NWHS**

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**Letters of Life, of Love**

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**Chapter 1**

**February 14, 2414**

**Washington, D.C.**

Nina stared from her husband Brian, to the gold-and-black bag between them, and back to her husband. An hour ago, he'd arrived home, barely missing the snowstorm the meteorologist had forecast was coming. They'd eaten the dinner of chili and garlic bread Nina had cooked, one of her husband's favorite winter meals. By other folk standards, a home cooked meal for two may not have been the most romantic way for a newly married couple to spend their first Valentine's Day together, but Nina and Brian were saving their pennies for a down payment on a house. Besides, on a stormy winter night, what woman wouldn't rather be in a toasty, albeit tiny apartment, with her sexy husband?

None she knew of.

But really, was it too much to expect that her husband, of six months, would remember Valentine's Day? Apparently it was, for why else had Brian just given her a bag from his place of employment, with a boyish grin and a, "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetie."?

"You forgot. I can't believe you forgot our first Valentine's Day as a married couple."

Dark-brown brows, thick with a natural arch, started the frown that traveled to matching brown eyes Nina had fallen in love with the moment they'd met in their Introduction to Art History class at Howard University, to his regal nose and full lips. He was so gorgeous, she almost forgot why she was annoyed with him, until he said, "I didn't forget," and looked at the bag then at her expectantly.

"It's from the museum."

"I know. What of it?"

Nina crossed her arms and just stared at Brian. He'd never been the romantic type, and, to be honest, neither was she. But a woman did like to think that her new husband would do a little something special for her on their first Valentine. Well, it wasn't technically their first as a couple. They'd celebrated the holiday while they dated . . . sometimes. Okay, maybe they'd only done the Valentine thing once or twice over the course of the seven years they'd known each other.

But they were now married, dammit. A little post-wedding wooing wasn't too much for a woman to ask for, was it? True, money was tight, but Brian had just landed a new job as curator at the National Museum of Superheroes and Nina had a decent tenure track position at Howard's Department of Art. Flowers and candy hearts wouldn't break the bank.

"Stop looking at me like that. I told you I didn't forget."

His voice was indignant, and she'd never known Brian to lie to her. When he was wrapped up in an old book or artifact, he was known to be forgetful, which was what Nina had thought happened when he'd first given her the bag. She assumed he'd gotten caught up in his work and simply let the day slip by without thought that today was Valentine's Day. And, on his way home, he'd dropped by the museum's gift shop and picked something up, anything, to appease his wife.

But the way he was staring back at Nina, said she both hurt and offended him. That wasn't how she wanted to spend this evening.

She uncrossed her arms, feeling ashamed and ungrateful.

"I'm sorry. I just assumed . . ."

"That I had forgotten. I know." He shrugged. "I have been known to forget a birthday, even my own. I guess I can't really blame you for thinking I'd forgotten that it was Valentine's Day." He pushed the bag across the small dining room table. "Honestly, I didn't know what to get you. The only chocolate you nibble on is me."

He winked.

She blushed, but didn't deny the truth of his words. Hershey chocolates had nothing on Brian Douglass, Ph.D.

"Anyway, we have this new exhibit at the museum called 'Heroic Love.'"

She'd heard. When the traveling exhibit had come to the nation's capital, two weeks ago, it was all the talk. With work and house hunting, Nina hadn't gotten around to going herself, although she thought it would make a great trip for her freshman Superheroes in Art History class.

"You haven't talked much about that particular exhibit."

"That's because I've been swamped with other donations from the Wayne Foundation. My assistant spearheaded the 'Heroic Love,' exhibit. She ran her ideas past me, which were all very good, and I approved them."

He stood, gathered their dishes, and loaded them into the cleaning unit. When Brian returned to the table, it was to grab the gift bag and Nina's hand. A minute later, they were reclining on their living room couch with the light set to 70%, the gift on Nina's lap.

"I had seen everything, of course, but I hadn't known about the letters."

"What letters?"

"The love letters."

Nina had no idea what Brian was talking about. The exhibit featured artifacts from the romantic relationships of some of the most famous superheroes – Batman and Catwoman, Black Canary and Green Arrow, Storm and Black Panther, and, of course, Wonder Woman and Superman. But love letters . . .?

"What love letters, Brian?"

"The letters from Superman and Wonder Woman, or rather from Clark Kent and Diana of Themyscria."

That had Nina almost squealing. What her husband had just said couldn't be true. Nina had completed her dissertation on the "Power Couple," as they'd once been dubbed, comparing their courtship and heroic legacy to that of Queen Ororo and King T'Challa. The similarities between the two couples were astounding, making for an intriguing dissertation.

Yet primary source data on Superman and Wonder Woman's relationship was much harder to track down than it was for the King and Queen of Wakanda. Much of their early courting had been done in private until the world had found out. A picture of them kissing had forever changed how the world thought of them – some afraid, some in awe, others undecided.

But all agreed, they were a "Power Couple," with all the pleasure, pain, and tragedy that came with being an alien and an Amazon, as well as a man and a woman in love.

Now her husband had just told her he had love letters from them. Nina briefly wondered if fainting from such news would be grounds for divorce, because, hell yes, Brian Douglass had married the biggest Supes/Wondy fan of the 25th century. And if his little museum bag contained the letters he'd just spoken of, as her Valentine's Day gift, he was so getting lucky tonight. Nina would probably allow him to do that thing to her she normally reserved for his birthday and Christmas.

Brian laughed. "I've never seen your eyes so wide, sweetie, or hear you breathe so heavy outside of bed play."

She was breathing as if they'd just gone two rounds in bed, and her damn heart wouldn't stop racing.

"It's just a preview copy, mind you. But the museum was given one to review. The Wayne Foundation plans to announce the book in another month or two. All proceeds will go to various charities – national and international. From what I've read so far, it's bound to be a bestseller."

Nina didn't doubt that it would, especially since no one knew precisely what happened to the superheroes. One day people realized that Wonder Woman was no longer around. All thought she had went home for a visit, as she often did, but that last time she never returned. Speculations abounded – like she was pregnant and in hiding – but no one knew, or those who did weren't talking.

Then there was Superman. He'd remained in the public eye years after Wonder Woman had gone. But from all reports, it wasn't the same Superman the people had known and loved who continued to save them. He was just as powerful and fast as ever, helping all that he could, but the pictures Nina had seen of him during that time revealed a man devoid of light, a man who needed someone to save him.

And for all that had transpired between Storm and Black Panther, including a divorce, the couple, after years of separation and other relationships, had managed to find their way back to each other – a happy ending instead of the tragedy that seemed to have befallen Superman and Wonder Woman.

Digging into the bag, with trembling hands, Nina wondered if the love letters held the answers that millions wanted to know: What happened to Wonder Woman and Superman?

She pulled out the book. On the cover was the infamous picture of the two caught in an intimate embrace. Superman's left hand possessively cradled Wonder Woman's face, keeping her close for his kiss, Wonder Woman's hands on his chest, palms open. For all of Superman's intensity and passion, it was Wonder Woman's calm acceptance of his kiss that had most intrigued Nina when she'd first seen the picture in a middle school textbook.

Even now, as she gazed at the iconic image, she couldn't imagine how two people who ever kissed each other like this wouldn't have stayed together forever. If given the chance, Nina knew she would never leave her husband's side. _So why did you leave Wonder Woman?_

"This is the best gift ever." Her sincere words wobbled out of her, and tears threatened. Brian knew her so well. How could she have ever thought him unromantic and forgetful? Book in hand, she snuggled against her husband, head going to his broad, sturdy chest. "Will you read it to me, please?"

With deft fingers, he lifted the book from her hand. While the snow fell in silent specks of white, bathing the East Coast in its beauty and danger, Nina closed her eyes, hearing the sure thumps of her husband's beating heart and the melodic way his words flowed from his mouth and to her waiting ears.

And as he read one letter after the other, Nina recalled that beautiful and dangerous were two words that had popped up time and again during the course of her dissertation research, so much so that she'd had to tag them as themes, oft cited descriptors of Wonder Woman and Superman.

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**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Dear Diana,_

_It seems I have the poor tendency of expressing myself better in a letter than face-to-face. Being a writer or having grown up on a farm are no excuse for my lack of communication skills. But when it comes to you, I find that my words don't come as easily as they should. I find that I have an overwhelming need to be perfect in your eyes, to be Superman and all that that means to you. But do I truly know what that is? I thought I did. I thought I knew what you thought of me, how you viewed me. After all, we've worked and fought side-by-side for five years. But is that the same as truly knowing someone? In a sense, yes, but in ways I'm now beginning to realize, no, not at all._

_You see, Diana, when I told you that I am also Clark Kent, I didn't explain. To you it might just seem like a difference in name or even friends and a job but, for me, it's so much more. It's who I am. At least in part, for I am also Superman. And, as Superman, I can display the power and strength that comes with that particular identity. But as Clark Kent, I cannot. And that's okay, because being Clark gives me an opportunity to demonstrate strength and competency in other areas – normal, human areas._

_And, I guess, this is where we part perspectives. But this is also where I am the most confused, because you don't really know me as Clark Kent, because I've never shown you. You've never seen Clark's world. Sure, I've worn those silly glasses for you, but I could tell you saw only Superman staring back at you – playing dress up, if you will. But it was me, Clark Kent who was there, not just Superman. Me, a boy raised on a farm in Smallville, raised to be a good man, not necessarily a super one._

_But that is me, too, the man who swallowed his fears and insecurities and kissed a beautiful woman. Even months later, I can't help but think of that fateful night each time I fly past the Lincoln Memorial. That tentative, but very nice kiss, set us on a path I have come to accept as one of inevitability, or what you probably would call fate._

_We are fated, Diana. But, I must admit, I don't know how to do this. Nothing in my life has prepared me for a woman like you. I'm older and have more experience, but when we're together that awkward teen I once was creeps to the fore, whispering in my ear that a princess and goddess could only find happiness with Superman but never in the simplistic life that Clark Kent leads._

_So I've written you this letter, undecided whether I will mail it, place it on your nightstand after you've fallen asleep, or throw it away, embarrassed by my weakness, my lack of answers and finesse. A man should have the guts to face his fears. But will facing them also mean I'll lose you? _

_I hope not._

_Yours truly_

_Clark_

Nina lifted her head from Brian's shoulder. "Do you think Clark sent the letter to Diana?"

"I'm not sure. The introduction to the book, written by Brenda Selena Wayne, the great granddaughter of Bruce Wayne, was pretty weak on the details, even the dates of most of the letters are unknown. All I know is that the letters were originally found buried somewhere on the farmland where Clark Kent was raised. That was about a century ago. From there, who knows where the letters were until they landed in the hands of one of Bruce Wayne's descendants."

Nina's mind whirled at all the research possibilities, but more so, the letter bespoke of a man who loved dearly, even when he was too young to understand that love didn't mean he had to be perfect and strong and free of weakness. But, perhaps, for superheroes like Superman and Wonder Woman, that's exactly what it meant.

Flawed thinking, Nina knew, but so very logical for two people to whom the world looked to for far too much, and whom probably expected even more from themselves.

"I'm pretty sure you left out a few 'greats'."

Brian shrugged. "Does it matter how far removed Brenda Wayne is from her famous grandfather?"

"No. Do you want me to get you a glass of water or juice?"

With one large hand, Brian settled Nina's head back on his shoulder.

"I'm fine." He skimmed a few pages, as he'd done before, using a silent criteria to select the letters he read to her. The book was nearly four hundred pages long, with two letters, sometimes, on each page. And the letters didn't even cover, what Nina believed to be, the entirety of Diana and Clark's relationship.

In an age of technology, even when the super couple lived, hand written notes would've been an outdated mode of communication. Yet they had taken the time to pen each other letters from the heart and mind, revealing a side of themselves they reserved for each other.

That thought had Nina smiling, and the smile grew when her husband selected the next letter and began to read.

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**TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Clark,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. So much has happened since you left the League and Lex Luthor made himself at home in a chair that rightfully belongs to you. I could happily remove his smug, baldhead from his manipulative body every time I see him sitting where you should be. But it's all I can do to keep Bruce from killing the egomaniac himself. Odd that I've found myself playing referee to Batman who can barely contain his outrage at having to share the League with the likes of Luthor. On this, Bruce and I are in agreement. On other things, as usual, we are not._

_Only for you have I stayed. Your reasoning was sound, as it so often is, but I feel as if my remaining on the League is a betrayal of all that we are to each other. An Amazon is loyal, even when said loyalty is unpopular. I care not for popular opinion. It's a waste of my time and distracts from much bigger issues._

_But for you and Bruce I agreed to remain, unwilling to give the media more fodder for their foolish claims that, as a couple, we pose a danger to the world. I am so tired of such nonsense. I wish you could find peace from hearing the endless accusations leveled against you. If I could spare you, I would. Despite what the media says, my powers are not unlimited. _

_And we do feel pain. We bleed. We cry. We want._

_They know nothing of us. They never truly did, so why should I be surprised by how quickly some have turned against you? I shouldn't, but I still am. And it angers me, more than I would reveal to anyone but you._

_My patience and tolerance for such things are finite; whereas, your own is admirably endless. In this vein, I think you have it right, for what good does harboring anger do? But I ask you, Clark, when does patience and tolerance turn into martyrdom? _

_I will abandon my anger and desire to seek retribution on your behalf, if you abandon your guilt and grief over circumstances beyond your control. A difficult challenge, I know. But you are Superman, the Man of Steel. But more, you are Clark Kent. A baby who fell from the sky then learned how to fly - a man, a myth, a hero._

_I've never met anyone like you, man or god._

_Diana_

"It says here that this letter was originally written in Kryptonian and translated to English for this book."

Nina lifted her head once more, and met Brian's knowing eyes. "She learned Kryptonian for him?"

"I guess so. I can't see Diana having much use for it otherwise."

No, neither could Nina. Besides Kara, Zod, and Faora, Superman was the last of his kind.

"Diana was proficient in many languages. I don't know why it never occurred to me that she would've taken the time to learn the language of her lover. I think that single act speaks volumes to how much she cared for and respected Clark's culture and heritage, even though all his knowledge of his Homeworld was second-hand information."

"True, but, in many ways, they were both outsiders, from ancient lands no one knew much about. I'm sure it pleased Clark to have one person he could share something so personal with and who would understand and value what it meant to him to have something . . . anything of Krypton." Brian cleared what sounded like a dry throat. "Umm, sweetie, I think I'm ready for that cold water now."

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**TO BE CONTINUED**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Diana,_

_I know I should be asleep. It's been one hell of a week. Saving the world—again—is exhausting work. Thankfully, I don't need as much rest as most. Besides, how can I sleep with you stretched out next to me, your body luscious, warm and smelling of our lovemaking? Today, when I saw you surrounded by parademons, it reminded me of the first time we met. I know, I know, you probably think I should've used that time to help you fend off those mindless minions of Darkseid. And I would have, too, if you hadn't dispatched them as quickly and effortlessly as you did._

_So I stared on, always amazed at how well you move, graceful, even in battle. And the thought that had come to me ten years ago, came to me again today. "You're strong." I would've thought that a decade later I could've come up with a better line than that, especially since I more than know the truth of that oversimplified observation. And to think, for days after having first met you, I kicked myself for actually uttering those two moronic words to you, to only think them again when we found ourselves in virtually the same position. But today I refrained from completing the déjà vu moment by revealing how awestruck you can still make me._

_Anyway, my love, I've been pondering a thing or two for a long time, and I think it's past time for me to act. According to Bruce, I've been an "idiot" for not doing it before. Although, admittedly, I'm surprised he thought it a good idea, at all. Not that his opinion has ever stopped us from doing what we wanted. But he is our friend and having his support means a lot to me._

_For now, though, I think I should try to claim a few hours of sleep. If you awake before I do and read this letter, wake me in your usual way. It's one of the perks I've quickly gotten accustomed to since we began sharing a condo. I know the situation isn't ideal, maintaining the façade and traveling from Metropolis and London to our private dwelling. But I promise, it'll get better soon._

_Until the morning_

_Clark_

"Did you know they lived together?"

Nina shook her head. "I found records of deeds to homes owned by both Wonder Woman, and who the public later learned was also Diana Prince. I suppose, at some point, one of those dwellings they cohabitated. I'll reexamine my old research notes. The good thing about this letter, unlike some of the others, is that we have a time of reference. I know the dates of the first two times Darkseid sent his parademons to our dimension and when the heroes, who would become the Justice League, first met. I can see what homes Diana owned between then and a decade later."

"And that's assuming the deed for the condo was under her name. It could've been in Clark Kent's name or even Bruce Wayne's."

"Or in someone else's entirely," she admitted on a sigh, and then slumped her head onto her husband's lap, her bare feet and jean clad legs stretching out on the couch.

Brian pushed stray braids out of her eyes, his own eyes and lips smiling down at her in understanding. "Clark and Diana weren't like Ororo and T'Challa. Storm and Black Panther were monarchs of a technologically advanced nation. They didn't have secret identities. Everyone knew Ororo Munroe was Storm and a member of the X-Men, as the public knew the Black Panther was the King of Wakanda. Hell, their wedding was called 'The Wedding of the Century.' Their divorce, though, wasn't as public, and neither was their second wedding. But the second one truly took and lasted decades. Superman and Wonder Woman's relationship differed tremendously."

"Because of Clark Kent and his need to live a normal life. I know."

"Yeah, but also because of that asshole who outed them when they first got together, using Clark's own blog to do it, no less. What a jerk. But I think that's what sent them underground, even more, with their relationship."

Nina agreed. "I always thought that was the reason why Wonder Woman took on the Diana Prince persona."

Above her head, Nina heard her husband flipping pages.

"What are you looking for?"

More page flipping. "I saw a letter about that earlier. Give me a sec and I'll find it. Okay, okay, I got it. Listen to this."

_Clark,_

_I know as I write these words, they will change nothing between us. The impasse will remain, as it has for far too many years. You can be a most obstinate man, made worse when you get your way. And, despite my better judgment, I accepted your need to be Clark Kent. In truth, it was never about me not accepting but understanding your need to experience life at a lower altitude than being Superman would ever allow._

_Honestly, I can't claim that I've yet to comprehend the need for Clark Kent in the way you want me to. To me, you've always been Superman, Kal-El, and Clark Kent. When I look at you, whether flying after a villain, writing a chapter of a novel, or playing with Krypto, I only see the man I love. Not three separate people, but one multi-faceted man, limited only by his imagination and fears._

_But I fear, too, Clark. I fear that this life we've constructed for ourselves will crumble upon the lies the foundation was built upon. I have tried, and, for you, I will continue to try. But lies, no matter the form or the reason, is not how I envisioned living my life. I wear the Lasso of Truth, but falsehoods surround me, mock who I am and what I stand for, what I believe in._

_Unlike you, Clark, I was not raised as Diana Prince. All that she is we created from bits and pieces of my life. But none of it is the real me. I've lost count of how many times I've deceived strangers and friends alike in order to maintain the Prince identity, to maintain the façade that Diana Prince and Clark Kent are just like everyone else – normal, Human._

_Clark Kent is who you are, Diana Prince is someone I don't even aspire to be. She's a shadow I've come to accept, who darkens my path and threatens to consume the real me – Diana of Themyscria._

_Please don't misunderstand, as Diana Prince I've grown to appreciate the human existence more than I ever would have from Wonder Woman's lofty position as a princess and goddess. Such depth of understanding has made me a better servant of the people, adding to the richness of my knowledge and experiences. And, for that, I thank you._

_Yet the artifice brought with it an emotional drain I hadn't foreseen. Daily, I'm forced to suppress my natural instincts and abilities, constantly bombarded by thoughts of acting in a way that would ruin all – for me, for you. Gods, the last thing I want to do is destroy your choice to be Clark Kent by being too much of myself to the world and they figure everything out._

_What would we do then? For me, giving up Diana Prince and reclaiming who and what I am, full-time, would be a relief instead of a disappointing consequence. But for you, my sentimental Kryptonian, it would be equivalent to a death in the family. And that kind of pain, I simply will not bring upon you._

_But know this, a time will come for you to lay Clark Kent aside. That day and that decision is as inevitable as the rising of the sun. But it will come, sooner than you'd like. And I hope, for both our sakes, when it does, you will be ready. _

_Until then, I will don the Diana Prince persona, for my love for you but not for her – never for that shadow of a woman. Diana Prince is as much a strategic decision, Clark, as it is a loving one, not to be confused with a sacrifice. Despite the lies that engulf our "normal life," the love we have for each other is the one truth that tethers us to this place and to each other._

_And it is that truth the lasso recognizes, burning through the lies and finding the light that is Diana and Clark, Superman and Wonder Woman._

_With Love_

_Diana_

Brian closed the book, one of his index fingers serving as a bookmark. "I think Diana lied, either to Clark or to herself."

Nina sat up. "Lied about what?"

"I think being Diana Prince was a sacrifice not a 'strategic decision,' as she put it. Or maybe it was in the beginning. Perhaps she didn't want to lose Clark so she agreed to take on a secret identity. Whatever the reason that drove her to become Diana Prince, I think it took something from her to be that woman. Like she said, an emotional drain."

There was a letter Brian had read earlier wherein Diana discussed how she'd felt when she learned that she hadn't been made of clay and brought to life by the gift of the gods, as she'd been told her entire life. She was, in fact, the daughter of Zeus and Hippolyta. That had been a well-kept secret. If those who feared Wonder Woman, thinking her no more than a sword-wielding Amazon, that fear would've tripled if they'd known of her full parentage.

But the public had never known this juicy, and most personal tidbit of Diana's life. She couldn't blame the woman for keeping the details of her birth a secret, not that it was anyone's business anyway. But really, no one wants to be the product of an illicit affair. Nina couldn't imagine how that must have felt, how much pain the truth had brought Diana. Or even how petrified Queen Hippolyta had been for her daughter's safety that she would rather risk Diana's hatred and sense of betrayal than the wrath Hera would've surely cast down on Diana if the truth were ever known.

Then for Diana to willingly take on an identity that was no more true than the clay origin story had to have reminded Diana of all the ways her mother had deceived her. And that, despite how her mother's deception had made her feel, Diana's lies, if discovered, could bring a similar pain to those she'd befriended as Diana Prince. The irony could not have been lost on Wonder Woman, no more than it was lost on Nina.

"Perhaps it was a sacrifice or maybe we're imposing our modern ideals on a totally different time period. If she said it wasn't a sacrifice, who are we to contradict her?"

"Would you have viewed it as a sacrifice?"

Good question. But life and love were never as straightforward as they seemed. The short time she and Brian had been married had taught Nina that much.

"I think relationships are about give-and-take and require a hell of a lot of hard work. Wonder Woman and Superman's relationship had to have been damn hard to manage. No wonder they broke up."

"Who said they broke up?"

"Ah, well, all the documents I've read. She left him, remember? I know today is Valentine's and all, but really, honey, don't let the romantic aura of the day fry your brain. Clark and Diana did not get their happy ending. That much is obvious."

The words came out blasé, but the idea that the so-called Power Couple's love did not stand the test of time bothered Nina. It should not have, she knew. Wonder Woman and Superman were long dead, and they'd had their chance at love and life. For a while their paths merged, but, as with most things, it ended, taking them in different directions. Nothing in her research had shown otherwise. Why should Nina think the rest of the letters would contradict three centuries of qualitative data?

She didn't.

They wouldn't.

And now she wished Brian had never brought the damn book into their home. At least then the hopeless romantic that secretly dwelled within Nina Douglass could continue to pretend that somewhere, in some mythical land, Wonder Woman and Superman had found their happily-ever-after.

But no such land of wonders existed. This was the real world. In the real world facts reigned and mushy endings lived only in sappy novels.

Brian glanced at the clock on the wall. In four hours, their first Valentine would officially end. The good thing was that it was Friday and neither had to go into work tomorrow. Despite herself, she wanted to hear more of the letters. Hoping they'd prove her wrong, but already knowing they would not.

Resigned to her fate, much as Diana and Clark had been, Nina snuggled against her husband once more.

He kissed the top of her head. "Have more faith in your Supes and Wondy. They just might surprise you yet."

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**TO BE CONTINUED**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Nina really should've asked her husband his standard for selecting which letters to read to her. Of course, they were all wonderful in their own way. Some were romantic and poetic, particularly Clark's letters. Others were reflective and philosophical. Most of those had been Diana's. Still others were sexy and sweet, again Clark's. And some were so honest and raw Nina literally felt the emotions lift from the page and encircle her heart.

Of the two, Diana's letters touched Nina the most. Perhaps because they were both women, though she didn't think gender alone accounted for the strong reaction she had to Diana's love letters. As complex as Clark Kent had been, Diana, in her way, was even more so. In certain respects, she was a woman ahead of her time, while in other ways she possessed an honesty and honor rarely found in any era.

She often thought herself right, but was wise enough to admit when she was not. Perfection hadn't been her goal but she did actively seek personal growth and enlightenment. At least that's how Nina interpreted many of Diana's letters – a woman who, most days knew precisely who she was, while on other days she questioned what she knew to be true, what she wanted to be true, and what she hoped was true.

"What are you thinking?"

Realizing she'd been caught wool gathering, Nina refocused her eyes on her husband. Having moved their little night of reading to their bedroom, they'd climbed into bed after having brushed their teeth and changed into night clothes. Now they sat propped against the headboard of their bed, Brian staring at Nina with a questioning gaze.

"I think if I had ever met Diana of Themyscria, I would have liked her. There's kindness and vulnerability in her letters. A kindness and vulnerability the media of her time never seemed to quite capture."

"Maybe because they didn't want to, choosing the images of her that best fit their preconceived notions while ignoring the ones that contradicted their biased beliefs."

"But the media treated Superman differently. Not always, I know. He hit a few rough patches in the popularity department, but overall he was well liked, trusted, and respected. Even though he was an alien, many thought of him as the boy next door."

"He was the boy next door."

Nina gave her husband a dubious look. "I don't know about you, but I never had a kid who could lift a barn with his pinky finger living next door to me."

Brian laughed. "Yeah, well, maybe not quite the boy next door, but you get my point."

"I do, but you understand mine as well. For all that Clark Kent was raised to be human, by human parents, he was merely acting the part. No matter what he did, he knew he was not the same as other boys and girls his age. He was unlike everyone else. How is that the same as being the boy next door in the way it was meant then and how it is meant in our time?"

"I don't know, but I would guess he was more human than Kryptonian. Being born one place does not make you _of _that place. He might have been born on another planet, but Earth's where he was raised. It's the only home he knew. So, in that respect, he was as human as the two of us."

She could concede that point. "Makes sense." She pondered Brian's words a bit more. Her husband was an intelligent man. His chocolaty eyes may have drawn her in but it was his wisdom and big heart that made her want to be with him always. Yeah, Nina was pretty sure if she could go back in time and meet Wonder Woman their love of smart, sensitive men would be one thing they would have in common.

Men with whom a woman chose to give her heart had the power to ensure its safety or to crush it into dust. Even the most loving of men often did both, breaking a woman's heart while loving her with all of his.

And the island in the middle was called life – hard, brutal, wonderful, and super.

"It's late, Nina, we can pick up with more letters tomorrow, if you want."

It was late but . . . "Just a few more, Brian. I want to know what happened to them."

"You do realize that I could read this entire book and you still may not have the answers to all your questions, don't you?"

"Yes, I realize. But just a few more, then I promise we can call it a night." She wiggled her eyebrows. "And I haven't forgotten that I've yet to give you your Valentine's Day gift."

He smiled, wide and with lust. "A few more then I want my present."

She nodded, ignoring Brian's mumble of, "The things a man does for his woman."

He began thumbing through the book, stopping a minute later when he was more than half-way through the pages. Again, Nina had no idea what he was looking for in his selections. But each letter he'd chosen so far had been a little historical jewel. She didn't doubt her husband had selected another winner.

_Beloved,_

_I hope you showed the proper respect and gratitude to Hermes this time. He informed me of your reaction the last time he delivered my letter to you. Please, Clark, you must understand, Hermes will not bring you to Paradise Island without the queen's blessing. Yes, he can actually transport you here, but he understands the repercussions of doing so against Mother's wishes._

_I apologize for her stubbornness, and how long I've been away. But we talked about this. I thought you understood. I may not require her approval, indeed, by the custom of the outside world, we are already man and wife._

Nina grabbed the book out of Brian's hand. Unable to process what her husband had just read, she had to see the words for herself. And, good lord above, it was as Brian had read.

"I-I can't believe it. They were _married_." Her words were spoken aloud but they were also spoken to the book, as if it would respond. She lifted her head, this time speaking to Brian. "They. Were. Married."

"I know. I just read that part."

"Aren't you shocked? I mean, hell, this is huge. Wonder Woman and Superman were husband and wife. It doesn't get much bigger than that."

"Well, I kind of figured Clark had popped the question when he said Bruce had called him an 'idiot' for waiting so long."

Clark had written something like that in one of the letters. How in the world had that gold nugget slipped by Nina.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wanted to see your reaction when you discovered it on your own. And, baby, your face was priceless. Damn, I wish I had captured that image. It would've made the perfect screen saver for my book reader."

He reclaimed the book from Nina's shaky hands. Hell, her entire five foot, three inch form shook with excitement at the revelation that her favorite couple had taken the matrimonial plunge. Then, just as quickly, her heart began to sink.

"Oh, come on, now what's wrong?"

"It's worse than I thought. I can't believe Wonder Woman left her husband. God, no wonder Superman looked so lost and lonely in those pictures."

"There you go again jumping to conclusions. Look, just relax and let me finish Diana's letter. At this pace, we'll never get through this, and I'll never get my lap dance."

"I never said anything about giving you a lap dance."

"Well, after all the drama you've put me through tonight, you're definitely giving me a lap dance. I bet Diana gave Clark lap dances."

She highly doubted that, but the thought and her husband's playfulness brought a smile to her face.

"Fine, just read the rest of the letter."

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself, then picked up where he'd left off.

_But I would like to have her approval. By the custom of my people, only the Queen of the Amazons can grant mating privileges and only an Amazon mating ceremony, performed by her, will be recognized by the queen and my sisters. It is our way. The same as the church wedding was yours. _

_As my chosen companion, Mother reluctantly accepted a relationship that was beyond her control. But as the future queen of Paradise Island, I must follow the dictates of my people. I cannot expect my sisters to respect my rules and decisions in the future, if I disregard the rules and decision of the current queen, choosing to follow the rules that suit me while conveniently ignoring the ones that do not. I've done so in the past, and I no doubt will do so in the future. _

_But, on this, I must prevail, Clark. As a daughter, it's important for me to have my mother's approval of the man I've chosen as my consort, my husband. I'm sure she will come to see and understand my decision, as she has so many others she's initially disagreed with._

_She has her reasons, none of which has anything to do with you personally. She just worries about my happiness, my future. As all mothers do, she only wants the best for me. And that often brings out the overprotective and stubborn side of the queen. But she knows my heart and trusts my mind. _

_But Mother doesn't trust in love, not between a man and a woman. Her experience with Zeus, even after so many years, has tainted her outlook on marriage, love, and fidelity. Ironic, don't you think, considering it was my mother who slept with a married man? Hera, for all her sins, never betrayed her vows to her husband, while Zeus never met a woman he didn't try to seduce._

_But the sins of my mother and father are not ours. I will not allow my mother to use them to keep me hostage as she has permitted them to cage her own heart. I accepted long ago that what my mother and father did was a mistake, but I was not. My mother told me as much the day I learned the truth, but I was too angry and hurt to hear her, to accept her unconditional love._

_Instead, I ran away. The guilt of that selfish, immature act still haunts me each time I return home, thinking to see my sisters once again as snakes and my mother turned to clay, arms outstretched in beseeching humility. I shudder at the thought, as I do of never having her accept you as my husband._

_It may take time. Queens are not so easily swayed from their positions, particularly when the queen in question is a bullheaded Amazon. So I will stay a while longer. And, if you are kind to my brother, Hermes will continue to ferry our letters. I think he hopes to have us name our first born after him. He will be disappointed._

_My mother doesn't know of our loss. It would only worry her, fuel her fears about our biological incompatibility. But I've been to the healer, and she assures me that, despite the miscarriage, I am healthy. Once I return home, we can try again. I would very much like to try again. Until then, beloved, have faith._

_Love_

_Your wife and eternal partner_

_Diana_

Still open, Brian placed the book, facedown, on his lap. "Ah, maybe we should leave it at that. That letter was a bit intense."

Not just that. The letter had also hit far too close to home. A year ago, Nina had miscarried. It was so early in her pregnancy, she hadn't even known she was pregnant until she lost the baby. Still, she and Brian had mourned their dead child. The thought that Clark and Diana had gone through the same horrible experience was a similarity to the Power Couple she would rather not have, for Nina would never wish that pain on any woman.

Brian wiped a tear from her cheek, a tear she hadn't known had fallen.

"Forget the lap dance, let's just call it a night."

She did want to call it a night, but something deep within prevented her from doing so, from seeking shelter from the tragedy that had been Wonder Woman and Superman's relationship.

"Not yet. A few more, Brian. Please."

They looked at each other for long minutes, Brian no less shaken by the letter than Nina. Although reluctance rimmed his weary eyes, he turned the book over, made his next selection and began to read.

And—_dammit_—it was worse than the last.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_My Dearest Diana,_

_How long has it been since I've taken the time to write to you? How long has it been since you've penned a letter to me? Hell, now that I'm posing questions that reveal the downward spiral our marriage has taken, how long has it been since we've made love for the sheer pleasure of simply being in each other's arms?_

_I remember a time when we couldn't wait to see each other, to tell each other about our day, to make love until either the bed broke or we fell into a satiated coma. I remember it all, even on days I wish I could forget._

_What happened to us? How could we have allowed self-pity to get the better of us? You're in pain and so am I. How then can we no longer find comfort in each other? And who's to blame? Me? You? The both of us?_

_Probably both, although we've pointed fingers at each other enough times to know that somewhere between my perspective and yours is the cruel, hard to accept truth. And that is, Diana, we are not meant to have children - at least none from our mismatched DNA._

_It took me a long time to admit this truth. Even after years of unprotected sex, with only four pregnancies to show for our efforts, followed by miscarriage after miscarriage, I refused to believe that two of the strongest beings on the planet couldn't bring a baby into the world._

_And, no, that is not my way of saying you aren't strong enough to carry a Kryptonian baby to term, as you've accused me of thinking. No more than I'm to blame for failing to impregnate you, in a hundred years of marriage, only four damn times. Rao, Diana, do you know how many years I believed that, thought that there was something deficient in me because I couldn't give my wife the child she so desperately wanted? That I so desperately wanted, too._

_Even now, a year after the last miscarriage, I feel like a total failure. Each time you wept in my arms, for yet another child lost to us, I was reminded how powerless that even Superman could be. For most of my life, I fought to be Clark Kent, wanting to show myself and the world that I was as normal and human as anyone else, that I didn't require the powers the sun gave me to be a man of worth, of value. _

_But let me tell you, dearest, I would have traded all my human experiences as Clark Kent to be the Superman you and our children needed me to be. I would've soaked in all Apollo would share with me, overflowing my body with his light, if I thought doing so would have made me strong enough to keep our children safe and with us._

_Yet, in this one respect, Diana, I am but a man and no more, just as you are but a woman. Neither of us are to blame. We are what we are, and, unfortunately, what we are is biologically incompatible, like your mother said so many years ago. Although being correct grieves Hippolyta as much as it pains us._

_With each failed pregnancy, I lost a bit more of you, lost some of myself as well. I can now admit that pride and selfish want drove me to hold onto a dream that my intellect told me was a false one. The heart can be the greatest deceiver, and our hearts have played trick after trick on us, until all that seems left are husks where Diana and Clark used to be._

_We've given the world everything – our hearts, our souls, and our strength. Is it too much to expect a little something in return? I kept thinking someone owed us something, a boon. And that boon was a child we could love and adore the way our parents cherished us. But such skewed thinking was short-sighted and not at all in alignment with who Superman and Wonder Woman are. We've never fought and helped others expecting something in return. We do it because it's the right thing to do and we're in a position to do what needs doing._

_As simple as that. As simple as Smallville._

_Still, a part of me envy those who've found joy and peace in the smiling eyes of their children._

_I want our joy and peace back. We once had it with each other. We've let our grief slowly tear us apart. If we continue on this treacherous path, there will be nothing left for us but to go our separate ways. The thought of letting you go makes me nauseous. My heart is racing and my head is pounding a vicious beat at the wretched thought of forever losing the other half of my heart, my soul. I will free you from your vows, if that is what you want. It would likely destroy me, but I won't stand in your way if you no longer wish to be my wife._

_But if you do, if you still love and want me as much as I love and want you, then we must wage a battle the likes we've never before known. For you, for our marriage, I'd battle a thousand Doomsdays. _

_Are you still my warrior princess, my Goddess of War, or do I ask too much, too late?_

_Please, Diana, don't let it be too late._

_Your devoted husband_

_Kal_

A long silence followed the conclusion of the letter. For what it was worth, Nina now had her answer as to why Diana left Clark, why their marriage fell apart, why Superman looked like a dead man walking the months and years before his death.

"You look like someone kicked you in the stomach, Nina."

Yeah, that was pretty much how she felt. Like the Clark in the letter, Nina wanted to vomit.

She slid down the bed and curled under the covers, suddenly chilly, body aching, heart hurting for a couple she never knew. So why did she feel as if her parents had just told her they were divorcing after forty years of marriage?

This had to be the worst Valentine's Day ever. Even the knowledge that, at some point, Wonder Woman became the Goddess of War wasn't enough to lift Nina's spirits or that Clark had eventually found the strength to give up being Clark Kent and fully accept being Kal-El. How that had all transpired, Nina didn't know. Perhaps the answers were in one of the many letters Brian had skipped over. And maybe, just maybe, when Nina ceased grieving for the Power Couple's loss, she would return to the book of love letters. But for tonight, she was well and truly done.

She closed her eyes, and when her husband didn't soon join her under the covers said, "It's ten till midnight, honey, well past our bedtime."

"That just means we have time for one more letter."

She groaned. Why was Brian being so stubborn? He was rarely stubborn, and the times that he were was over something far more important than letters from dead heroes.

"There's one more letter on the list."

Nina's eyes popped opened. "What list?"

"The list Brenda Wayne sent me in an email. When I learned she forwarded the museum a preview copy of her book, I emailed her my thanks. In the email I mentioned your interest in the couple and your dissertation topic. To my surprise, she emailed me back with a list of what she called 'must reads.'"

Lowering the book to her, Brian revealed a blue Post-It note with a vertical row of numbers, presumably page numbers, attached to the first page of the book.

She gaped at him, wondering why he was only now telling her this. Not that it mattered. Brenda Wayne, the old eccentric, was as odd as Bruce Wayne was brilliant if she thought Nina would be interested in those depressing ass letters she'd picked out. If they were the best of the bunch, then there was no way Nina would be reading the rest of the book.

"Just one more, Nina. We've come this far, why not finish what we've started?"

"Because that damn book has ruined everything. I thought I would never say this, being a professor and all, but sometimes ignorance really is bliss."

"Maybe, but you're no quitter, so come from under those covers and listen to the last letter."

"What if I don't?"

His hand found a cheek and stroked with gentle patience. "Then you'll never know the depth of their love."

"They lost four babies, Brian. I think I understand them pretty well."

The caress became softer, nearly as soft as his words of, "That was their pain, not their love. Pain doesn't define a couple and neither does their joy."

"If neither pain nor joy explains the depth of love between a couple then what does?"

Considering they were married, Nina felt stupid for asking. But she'd never known her husband to speak like this about marriage and love. The realization that she didn't know his thoughts on a topic so important to their own marriage unsettled her.

His kiss to her forehead was sweet, tender. He joined her under the covers, the open book on his chest. "In her email, Brenda Wayne told me the reason she decided to publish the book of letters in the old print format instead of the electronic format all books are published in today."

Curious, Nina couldn't help but ask, "What did she say?"

"She said that love cannot be experienced virtually. Love can only be experienced through touch, through sound, through living life to the fullest, pain and all. What I feel when I hold a book in my hands, feeling each page between my fingers, bending the edges where I left off or noting a page I want to reread, there's nothing like it. I feel closer to the story, closer to the events and people on the pages. No high-tech reader can compare. I've heard you say the same."

Yes, she had, many times in fact. Nina and Brian were book collectors, both preferring old school print books to electronic copies, their small apartment unable to accommodate their growing collection. Yet another reason why Nina couldn't wait to buy their first home.

"So tell me why pain and joy doesn't explain the depth of love between Clark and Diana."

"Joy and happiness are easy."

"True. All married couples want a happy marriage."

"Right, but pain is also easy."

Nina lifted onto an elbow to stare down at her insane husband. "Pain is easy?"

He nodded.

"How do you figure? From my experience, pain is damn hard to deal with."

"Pain is easy in the sense that we all expect to be hurt at some point in our life. We don't want it and it hurts like hell when it does happen, but we expect it. Hell, sometimes we even prepare for it. And, yes, some of us handle it better than others. Pain is easy because it's so normal, it's a part of everyone's existence, human and meta."

Okay, that made a strange kind of sense, although Nina wasn't so sure she would ever describe pain as easy, no matter how normal it was.

"But the hard part, the part that most define us as individuals and as a couple, is how we handle the in-between."

"The in-between?"

"Yes, the life we lead between our pain and our joy. The in-between is where true love resides. The in-between is hard work. The in-between is where couples, like Wonder Woman and Superman, survive or perish."

Okay, that made even more sense. But . . . "They didn't survive the in-between. Diana left Clark, remember?"

"Maybe, probably, but why don't you let me read the final letter and we discover the truth together."

Reclining onto her back, Nina smiled when Brian held her hand under the covers while using his other to turn to the last page of the book. The book of love letters, ironic enough, entitled _Letters of Life, of Love: Living Between Being Wonderful and Super._

_My Kal,_

_Gods how I've missed you. Spending these last twenty years without you have been the hardest of my life. From Olympus, I've watched over you, as I have the billions of others who rely on the balance I bring to the world. Being Goddess of War, in more than just name, has deprived me of much, namely my freedom and life with you._

_For too many years, I mourned what we could not have instead of appreciating what we did have, which was each other. Your letter from so long ago brought that shameful truth to light. I know I've said it before, but I am truly sorry, Kal, for all the pain we caused each other. I never thought love could hurt so much. In this, Mother was right._

_But she was also wrong, because she chose the wrong man to love. Unlike you, Zeus didn't know how to love, or how to even accept love from those who dared to love him. But you, Superman, Kal-El, Clark Kent know nothing but love. You are full to overflowing with the emotion, and I have had the pleasure of basking in your sun's rays for over three centuries - first as your friend then as your lover and finally as your wife._

_We know how it feels to fall in love and even the heartbreak of drifting apart. But what we have yet to experience, what I will never allow us to experience is the wrenching pang of falling out of love._

_That will never happen._

_We will be together soon, in a place I thought I would never see again. A place that will be paradise to me once more but only because you will be there to share it with me. Working with my family of gods has been a long fought compromise, one that took much longer than we anticipated. But gods have no sense of timing, choosing to move only when motivated, or, in this case, when I threatened to leave them without a God of War the next time war erupts. And, with a family like mine, the next war is never too far around the corner, particularly when there is always Strife stirring things up with gods from other pantheons._

_But that is talk for another day. The war is now over and I have my reprieve. Yet I cannot return to the outside world. I will never again be Wonder Woman or Diana Prince. Yet I will always be your wife._

_For better or for worse. _

_With great anticipation, I await your arrival. And, Kal, don't get into an argument with Hermes and cause him to be late. We have twenty years of lovemaking to make up for and a bed crafted by Hephaestus I'm dying to try out._

_With love and adoration_

_Diana-El_

Tears of relief escaped in silent rivulets down Nina's coco-brown cheeks. Normally not one for sentimentality, Nina gloried in her tears. The fangirl in her was doing a little dance of joy while the mature woman barely held onto her composure.

"They made it. Diana didn't leave for any of the reasons I thought. They survived the in-between."

"They did, and so will we, sweetie, so will we."

Brian closed the book and, with the same reverence Nina felt, placed it securely in the nightstand drawer. Then she was in his arms, cradled in the safety of his loving embrace.

"I wonder where they are now?" he whispered in her ear.

_Where they are?_ "Brian, you can't mean to tell me you think Wonder Woman and Superman are still alive?"

"No, not Wonder Woman and Superman but Diana and Kal, yes. You forget, my professor, Diana was a goddess, much more than the Amazon the world believed her to be. And Kal-El was from another planet. Who knows how long Kryptonians live. And that last battle with Doomsday, Superman's body was never recovered. For all we know, he survived. So maybe not a death, Nina, but a strategic diversion and disappearance. Besides, I'm pretty sure the place Diana referenced in her last letter was Themyscria, Paradise Island. If I understand correctly, anyone who lives on that island ceases to age."

From her warm spot on his chest, Nina cast her eyes up to her husband's. "Do you really think it's possible?"

So much of what Brian had said was sheer conjecture - absolutely no data to support his contentions. Yet . . .

"I do. With the two of them, I think anything is possible, if we are willing to believe. Do you, Nina? Do you believe in Diana and Kal?"

Before Brian read that final letter, Nina would've answered with a firm, resolute "no." But now, well, she was a born-again Kal and Diana shipper. And that, dear Valentine, would never change.

* * *

**TO BE CONCLUDED**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Paradise Island**

**February 14, 2414**

Diana refolded the letter she'd received from Brenda. It was finally done. She hadn't initially approved of Kal's and Brenda's idea, but her husband had the most delicious method of convincing Diana to see things his way.

"So when will the book go public?"

Diana lifted her eyes to Kal, but didn't immediately answer. They sat on the beach, the sun beginning to set. The blue-white ocean before them was an artist's muse. Diana remembered wading in that ocean when she was a girl of two, Hippoltya holding her tiny hand, concerned for her safety, as always. Oh how Diana had missed her home those years she was away.

As a rebellious, naïve young woman, girl really, Diana left home thinking Themyscria too small for her large aspirations. Throughout the years, however, Diana had come to understand how much of her homeland she'd taken for granted, as well as the women she lovingly called sisters and a queen she was proud to call mother. But the prodigal daughter, more than six decades now, had returned home for good. And with her, beside her, was the one person she couldn't live without, although she had for a time.

Those years had been most lonesome. The frustrating days and aching nights were only broken up by the fatigue of war, too many battles to recall, too many deaths to peacefully sleep.

"She says in six or eight weeks. I still feel uncomfortable with the idea of sharing so much of ourselves with the world. I know that I agreed but . . ."

A large, warm hand began a slow trek from Diana's bare wrist, up her arm and to her shoulder, stroking and squeezing. Then the smile came, larger than life and full of love and understanding. The hand crept higher, finding the nape of her neck and caressing away the tension that had begun to build.

"It's time for the truth to be known. The new crop of heroes need our support. They will face many of the same challenges we did, and some, unfortunately, will falter and fail. But Brenda will be there for them, in her unconventional but formidable way. She's every bit a Wayne – brilliant, arrogant, dedicated, loyal. I see much of Bruce in her. He would be proud."

Diana had to push against the tide of tears that invariably threatened when either she or Kal mentioned Bruce, or any of the Justice Leaguers they'd worked with, befriended, loved, and lost. Only a handful, like J'onn, remained. Everyone else, _gods so many_, had long since passed on. And Diana, in her silent way, mourned them all.

As did Kal, especially Bruce, whom he loved like a brother. So, not surprisingly, Kal had taken it upon himself to watch over Bruce's descendants. And as each one of them had grown old and eventually died, Kal and Diana lived on.

A lonely existence, to be sure, if they didn't have each other, which—_thank the gods_—they once again did.

"I know. I know, but I hated having to part with our letters."

Now Kal's wandering hand was in her hair, massaging her scalp in a way that told Diana her husband had more on his mind than their current conversation.

She closed her eyes, happily accepting Kal's sensual diversion.

His warm breath reached Diana's neck before his words of, "Brenda said she would have them ready for me the next time I visit. I have a trip planned to Gotham in two months. If you want them sooner than that, I can alter my schedule and pick them up this week or next."

She didn't want Kal to change his plans on her account, simply because she was being sentimental and possessive of their memories.

"Do you really think knowing our story will empower the young superheroes, Kal?"

Supple lips followed by a long, wet tongue on her collarbone, the lobe of her ear, had Diana shivering. With a gentle hand, Kal caught her chin, turned Diana just enough and kissed her.

And, _by the gods_, had a woman ever felt as treasured, as loved, as desired as Kal made Diana feel? She didn't know and she honestly didn't care, because when they touched no one else mattered in the world except the two of them.

Twisting more fully into Kal, Diana slipped arms around strong, broad shoulders before settling her body across his, feminine hips straddling masculine thighs.

She took control of the kiss, parting his mouth with her tongue and drinking from him long and deep. He tasted of the lemon and water he'd been sipping on earlier, similar to the way he was now sipping from her mouth, licking and rimming her lips with his wily tongue. She also scented the honeyed aroma of lust - her own.

Greedy hands roamed her body, scorching a path of desire everywhere they landed. All thoughts of the setting sun, the beauty of the ocean and letters of love drifted away, a forgotten daisy in a garden of lilies and roses.

Rolling Diana onto her back, Kal retook control of the kiss, his massive body a wonderful weight. Warm sand underneath, hard, muscular male on top, Diana was in sensual heaven.

When Kal's hand slipped under her dress, fingers skimmed flesh Diana was sure rose to meet his exquisite touch.

She moaned.

He bit her shoulder, hard and breath-taking enough to rip a disappointed growl from Diana when his exploring mouth traveled lower.

Off came her dress. His shirt and shorts followed.

If any of her sisters decided to take in the beach at sundown, they would find it occupied and being put to wanton use by the princess and prince of Themyscria. But it wouldn't be the first time Kal and Diana had gotten so caught up in each other they managed to forget the island was home to more than just the two of them. But now, like then, none of that mattered, not when pleasure and yearning overrode propriety.

An hour later, Diana's white tunic, rumpled from Kal's impatient hands, clung to her moist, boneless frame. Her body still tingled from all the wicked things her husband had done to her. Then again, some of that could have been from the sand and all the unmentionable places on her body where it had gotten.

_I should go for a swim or to the balneae for a bath. Then again . . ._

With a languor that came only from a full body explosion Kal always managed to bring forth, Diana reclined with her back against her husband's bare chest, his blue basketball shorts the only clothing that had survived their sex on the beach. Which, Diana was pretty sure, was the name of a drink Hal had once tried to seduce her into drinking, for purposes both self-serving and unrealistic.

Mindlessly, Diana began to play with the sand between her raised legs. Thumbs and fingers worked, as she gazed up at the moon.

Kal's arms encircled her waist, his face pressed against her neck. "I missed you. When we were apart, I missed you all the time."

The guilt in her heart bloomed anew, yet her hands kept moving, pulling and piling the sand, a sudden, unexplainable need to create . . . something.

Eyes still cast upward, hands kneading the sand, Diana listened without responding. When Kal got in a melancholic mood, as he sometimes did, Diana knew he didn't expect her to reply. During these times, he just wanted to freely express the feelings he couldn't back then, for there was no one he trusted enough to confide his deepest darkest emotions to.

Unlike Kal, Diana at least had Hippolyta. Once the queen had come to terms with Diana's marriage, blessing Kal and Diana's union with all the pomp and circumstance that came with being the Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyta had been the most supportive of mothers.

He nuzzled her neck, and Diana knew Kal was doing more than basking in their post-coital glow. His words of, "I even missed the smell of you," no longer surprised her, but the sad admission always had the force of a punch to the solar plexus.

Diana breathed deeply, absorbing the blow then releasing it on a slow, long exhale. Her hands still worked, an indescribable force having settled over Diana.

"When you left, you took the smell of sunshine with you. Funny, until that day, I hadn't realized the sun had a scent and that it had taken up residence within you. Then you went away and took my sunshine with you."

She did leave. Diana had no choice.

"You were in a lot of pain back then. The Fortress of Solitude was my escape from the bombarding sounds of the world. There I found relief, peace."

One hand came up to stroke her back, a circular pattern that soothed Kal more than it ever had Diana.

"But there was no Fortress of Solitude for you, no relief or peace to be found."

At least none they had initially known of. That truth had come later, much, much later. Nearly too late for Diana's sanity.

"I couldn't help you. I didn't know how. I had no idea of the repercussions to you becoming the god of war."

Neither had Diana. No wonder War had appeared as he had the final years of his life – thin and old. Diana hadn't comprehended then, she did once the roiling waves of hatred and fear began to assault her. It had taken decades before she consciously felt the impact, but, as she later reflected, the sensations had been there since the beginning.

Like background noise of the body, easy to ignore, she foolishly dismissed the warning signs. The _Danger Ahead_ sign was there, in the way her senses opened and absorbed every scent and sound of battle. She fairly thrummed from the pulses that skidded through her body, fueling Diana's warrior spirit.

And perhaps if that had been the whole of it, Diana could've managed, used the lasso to help center her, to keep the truth of self in front of her. But her divine power grew. With age and over time it matured, branding itself to her as if it belonged, as if it had been there from birth.

When Diana had been forced to kill War to prevent the First Born from killing him and taking over the mantle, War had been ready to die. Again, all the signs were there, but Diana had refused to see those as well. The toll that being the god of war had taken on her brother was evident, his appearance no longer one of strength, dominance, and power but of exhaustion, resignation, perhaps even defeat.

And why wouldn't War feel that way? He'd been a god his entire life – revered by some, hated by many, feared by most. In far less time than that, Diana could hardly fathom getting up in the morning, going into public, so much agony was she in.

Violence was everywhere. So many people hated and hurt others because of their hate. Others were consumed with fear, lashing out at the world in vile and brutal ways. Then there were those, like the Justice League, who protected the innocent, often using forceful measures to do so.

"Your soul wasn't meant to house the power of a war god. No matter how much an Amazon warrior you are, war is not your nature."

No it wasn't, but she'd been the one to kill her brother. It was only fitting she take on the burden he'd left behind. Better Diana than the perverse and perverted First Born, who would have used his newfound power and position to claim first Olympus then the world.

The back massage ended but Kal's monologue did not. "I may have heard people's every word, but I didn't feel the emotions behind them. Until you, I hadn't appreciated the distinction."

The difference was monumental, for Diana felt _everything_. From an argument turned heated to a gang turf war to a school shooting to a terrorist attack, Diana consumed it all. Like a succubus, she fed off the violent carnage that plagued the world. Human's primal, aggressive instincts a devolution that affirmed Diana's godhood while systematically destroying the woman.

"Your brother is a selfish jerk, but he was right. Gods shouldn't live in the outside world, especially you. Olympus was your Fortress of Solitude, as it is for all Greek gods. You were no exception, though we both thought you were."

And Apollo had needed his war god to protect Olympus. Diana had avoided the home of the gods, denying, as much as she could, her godhood, her curse. But there was no denying, no avoiding, and no getting around the fact that being the god of war wasn't a throwaway title. It was, to Diana's dismay, _what_ she had become.

But it was not _who_ she was. The distinction irrelevant when only Olympus offered the peace and escape she desperately needed. But Apollo wanted a full-time god of war not an intrepid guest who used his home like a Buddhist temple.

So, with heavy hearts, Kal and Diana accepted Apollo's "gracious" offer, knowing, if he could, Apollo would see to it Diana never left Olympus. Because, as Kal had told Apollo, a sovereign was only as powerful as the general who backed him.

"The nights were the hardest for me. During the day, I could immerse myself in being Superman, working myself to exhaustion so when I got home I was too tired to notice how quiet and empty the house was. But it never worked. As soon as I crawled into bed, the illusion died. After a while, I could no longer bring myself to sleep in our marital bed, so I moved to one of the guest rooms. Finding sleep became easier then, but the dreams of you still came, no matter where I slept."

Diana's hands stilled over the four sand piles she'd mindlessly formed. This was new. Kal had never mentioned the dreams before. Diana too had dreams, dreams of lost children and a husband's blue, blue eyes.

"I'm sorry I had to go away. I didn't want to leave, to hurt you, hurt myself."

Hands returned to her back, once again stroking, up-and-down this time.

"I know. I don't blame you, Diana. I never blamed you. And it was as much my decision as it had been yours. I wanted you to go as much as I wanted you to stay. But I had to let you go. For your sanity and health, I had to let you go."

They lapsed into companionable silence, Kal's hands never leaving Diana. Whether it was her back, her waist, her neck, her hair, some part of Kal remained in constant contact with Diana. She didn't think Kal realized how often he did this; using touch to reassure him that Diana was actually here with him, that they were once again together and she wouldn't disappear if he let her out of his sight.

Gazing once more to the dark sky, lit only by the luminescence of the full-moon, Diana resumed her work on the four sand piles.

And there they sat, Clark quiet as he held Diana to him, as much lost in his thoughts as Diana was in the sand.

Time seemed to slow, as did the summer air whispering around them.

A slither of the moon uncoiled from around the massive ball and began to descend, taking on a glowing feminine form. Within minutes, perhaps merely seconds, Moon stood before Diana.

Their eyes met, Diana's lightning white from the divine power she no longer concealed with her bracers.

When Kal's arms tightened, almost painfully, Diana knew he'd also sensed Moon's arrival.

"No!" Hard. Firm. Final. "Whatever your brother wants from my wife, the answer is no."

"Apollo wants nothing, Kryptonian. And if he did it would already be his. You stay on this island by our grace. If you think—"

"And you live only by my wife's grace, Goddess of the Hunt. Don't forget, it is Diana who protects Olympus, she who keeps your enemies at bay, because they are frightened of offending or angering the Goddess of War. That was what Apollo requested of her, twenty uninterrupted years of service to the King of Olympus. She gave it, elevating the status of the Greek Pantheon by her efforts alone. Apollo wanted all to fear him, fear his family, well now they do. Diana owes him nothing more. Olympus is forever open to her when she needs the peace and quiet it affords her."

Surprised Moon had allowed Kal to say so much without challenging him to a battle she would not win, even with her moon full in the sky, her sister surprised Diana even more when she said, "We understand all Diana has done for Olympus. That's why we are here."

Moon was alone, so Diana asked, "We?"

The huntress was spared from answering when a ball of white light appeared suddenly next to her. From that light four emerged – Hermes, Athena, Hera, and Aphrodite.

Kal and Diana craned their heads to look at the five gods who now stood before them, their own eyes lowering to the seated pair.

"Really?" Kal huffed. "Well, yeah, I guess it will take all of you to defeat me, because there is no way in hell I'm letting you take Diana away from me again."

Kal made to stand, but Diana held fast to an arm, adding a bit of force, to get his attention, when he didn't immediately halt. The gods, while en masse, weren't here for the reason Kal thought. Apollo knew better than to cause trouble on Paradise Island. Diana would stand for nothing of the sort, and neither would Hippolyta. And the fact that Strife was nowhere to be seen meant she was either unaware of what was going on or Apollo forbade her from joining the others. Either way, the unexpected arrival of her family had Diana intrigued.

"It's fine, Kal. They know they cannot take me where I don't wish to go. And they know, as the Goddess of War, I can detect their ill intentions before they would even have a chance to act upon them," she said, which, in battle, had turned out to be a telegraph that resulted in many an enemies' swift defeat.

Apparently satisfied, Kal made no further move to protect her. But his body remained taut, coiled as tight as a rattler, ready to strike if provoked.

Hera, blonde hair piled high on her head, feet bare, a peacock feather dress covering her from ample bosom to mid-thigh, she knelt before Diana. A pale hand reached out and found Diana's, holding it with a sincere gentleness Diana would have thought her impossible of exhibiting prior to Apollo ripping Hera's godly powers from her. He'd long since returned them, though not the throne.

"You've suffered, my child. I watched what you endured, unable to free you from your pain, although I wished I could have intervened."

Diana understood, and, from the way Kal looked from Hera to Diana, he did as well.

"Goddess of marriage, women and birth, I'm supposed to protect. But sometimes, as in your case, the best recourse is to do nothing and wait."

Hera squeezed Diana's hand before releasing her. "I see you've already begun. That's very good."

Everyone, including Kal, followed Hera's gaze. And, for the first time, Diana shifted her eyes downward and to the four piles of sand she'd labored over for the last hour or so.

"Honey, what did you do?"

She stared, having no idea why she would do such a thing.

"I don't know."

"It is time," Hera spoke. "It wasn't before. I know you and Kal thought it was, but you were wrong. Even when you returned to this island, your husband joining you soon afterward, then was also not the right time. The two of you needed time to decompress, to reconnect, to accept the new phase of your marriage and life. Eros and Aphrodite assured us that now is the time. So we are here to foster the birth of the next generation of gods."

Diana heard every word Hera had spoken, but the meaning was lost on her, so transfixed was Diana on what she couldn't pull her eyes from. There, in front of her, were four piles of sand. But not simply piles, for the granules had been constructed into a definitive shape. It was the same shape four times over, one identical to the others.

"I thought you were only toying with the sand. I had no idea, Diana."

Neither had she. What had possessed her to create . . .?

"Babies made of sand. Rao, you made babies from sand. And the detail is amazing. One even has a cleft chin. How?"

Again, Diana had no clue. Stunned, Diana said nothing, but she couldn't convince her eyes to move from the sand piles.

Like Hera, Hermes, Aphrodite, and Artemis knelt, forming a semi-circle around the "babies."

That left only Moon standing.

"Apollo sends this message, Amazon. 'Thank you. The sun will forever shine on your children'."

That cryptic message had Diana lifting her head, once more meeting the eyes of a sister who, despite their differences and general dislike of each other, Diana would allow no enemy to harm.

Moon lifted into the sky, a rare smile parting her lips. "When they are of an age, sister, I will take them hunting and see how well you've trained them. Until that time, enjoy your brood."

"Brood?" Kal whispered in her ear. "Is it me, or have your family started their own version of 'Punked'?"

Moon disappeared, leaving a confused Diana in her wake. The piles were only sand, for goodness' sake, not real babies.

In unison, the four gods lifted their hands, palms down, over top of the piles of sand. Diana refused to think of them as babies. They were not. They were just very convincing versions of babies who haunted her dreams.

"What are they doing?" Kal asked.

Diana didn't know, but she could feel magic begin to swirl about them.

"Do you feel that?"

She nodded.

Aphrodite, as beautiful as she was nude, her long hair covering the parts of her that would've had Kal blushing and turning away, was the first to speak. "My son's aim is always true, Diana. He's united millions of couples. But bringing two hearts together does not mean they will stay forever in that state. Magic, even godly magic, can only do so much. Yet when he fired his golden love bullet at Kal, your Superman did something no one ever had. He caught Eros' bullet. But there was no need for external machinations from the God of Desire and Attraction, for you'd already captured your mate's heart. That was four centuries ago. As the Goddess of Love, I can tell you what all here knows, his love for you has deepened. Over the years and through trials and tribulations, your consort loves you even more today. No love bullet can imitate true love and fidelity. So," the goddess spread her fingers, pink-and-white rose petals appeared, falling onto the four piles of sand, "I bless them with the love of their parents and the beauty of Aphrodite."

One of Kal's arms came to wrap around Diana's trembling shoulders. This couldn't be happening. She had to be dreaming.

Athena, dressed in an ancient Grecian tunic, smiled first at Diana then at Kal.

"You chose well this man, Diana. And you chose even better, Kal-El of Krypton. Intelligence can be found in most living creatures, but wisdom exists in a precious few." Palms still cast down, four grayish-black owl feathers appeared, one on the forehead of each of the piles of sand. "I bless them with the courage of their parents and the wisdom of Athena."

"Little sister," Hermes said, his husky voice a jolting contrast to the soft, melodic ones of Athena and Aphrodite. "When you were a child, you were forever getting into mischief, but you were also fast enough to evade your mother's feigned wrath. You thought you could fly, I suppose the way most children do. But most children don't find the highest peak, climb it, then hurl themselves off, thinking, somewhere between safety and the ground, wings would magically sprout and save them. But you did, as quick as a hare you scaled the northern mountain and jumped. And plummeted, scaring Hippolyta to death."

With a smile, Diana recalled being just that foolish and reckless as a child. "You caught me." She remembered the breeze, then strong hands holding her thin body, heart beating wildly from adrenalin and fright.

"Of course I did. I'd never moved so fast in my long life or been so frightened. I would've given you the gift of flight then but Hippolyta was wiser than I and talked me out of it. Who knows where a fearless five-year old would've flown off to."

Hermes reached down, plucked four feathers from a foot and handed them to Kal.

Not releasing Diana, Kal accepted the offer with his other hand, eyeing Hermes with cautious gratitude.

"Diana and Kal, I gift your little ones with the swiftness of the Messenger of the Gods. But it is a privilege not a right, to be bestowed on them at a time of your choosing. This is my blessing."

By this time, even Kal was shaking. What the gods were doing for them was apparent, although it still didn't seem possible. Hippolyta's lie about Diana's birth couldn't now be turning into Kal and Diana's truth.

Diana peered down at the piles of sand. Nothing had changed with them, except the rose petals and owl feather that dotted the forms. It was, after all, just sand, not even the clay from her mother's story.

Still . . .

Hera's hands were the only ones still leveled above the sand. She lowered them to the peacock dress. And, like Hermes, plucked four feathers. Leaning over, she placed a feather where a child's belly button would be.

"As the Goddess of Marriage, Children, and Birth, I bless these gods with the strength of Superman and the honesty of Wonder Woman." From under long lashes, Hera looked at Diana. "Every living being has a heart and soul, Diana, even gods. Before you showed me mercy by welcoming me into your home when I'd been cast out of Olympus, a mere mortal, I neither cared nor thought I had either. You showed me I was wrong. You showed me many things, about myself especially. Nothing I can do will be enough to repay you. But I hope," the rose petals, owl and peacock feathers melted into the piles of sand, "your children will bring as much happiness to your life as your friendship has brought to mine."

It began to rain. Yet the rain fell onto only Kal, Diana, and the piles of sand before them.

Hermes, Athena, and Aphrodite stood.

"The last gift is for the two of you. You'll forever remember what happened this night – blessings and gifts from your family. But know this, these are your children, created from your love and commitment to each other. With each miscarriage, Diana, a soul of your child was left behind. All children's souls belong to me, even deceased ones."

As Hera spoke, Diana detected small pulsing vibrations coming from the piles of sand. Kal had noticed first, the arm on her shoulder slipping as he moved closer, eyes inspecting, seeing on a level Diana couldn't.

"I have returned the souls to their rightful bodies, lovingly held until this day. They are, in every respect, the children of Diana and Kal-El." Hera stood. "And, when deciding on names, I've always been partial to the name Rhea. But Hippolyta made me promise to mention the name Donna. I have no idea what it is with your mother and Ds."

In stupefaction, Kal and Diana gaped at the gods, who stood in the same position as when they'd first arrived. With one hand raised in farewell, the other wrapped around his caduceus, Hermes' ball of light appeared, encasing the group. Then they were gone.

Neither Diana nor Kal uttered a word. The beach was once again quiet and still, not even the small breeze rustled the leaves on the overhanging trees.

Blowing out a deep breath, Kal asked, "Is it possible for the two of us to have the same dream?"

Diana understood and shared her husband's disbelief. "I don't think so."

"Okay, well then, honey, that means the heartbeats I hear coming from the sand piles are real. And that my eyes aren't playing tricks on me because I definitely see—"

One hand, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight poked from the sand. The rain began to fall in earnest, washing away the remnants of the pile of sand Diana had mindlessly yet meticulously formed. _My children._

Before their astonished eyes, came the wet, wiggling bodies of four newborns. Blue eyes opened, thick, black hair matted to head, noses and cheeks ruddy, the babies, in unison, began to wail. Loud and deafening, they screeched to the top of their, apparently, well developed lungs.

For long seconds, Kal and Diana didn't move, which did nothing to stop the babies from ripping up the beach with their cries. Then, as if awaking from a coma, they reached out and filled their arms, two babies each.

The rain stopped, and, thankfully, so did the crying.

Then there was just silent awe as Diana and Kal beheld their lost-and-found children. So beautiful, gods, they were so damn beautiful.

"We're parents, Kal." Tears streamed down Diana's face, tasting of salt when they reached her quivering lips.

"Ah, yeah." He faced Diana, Kal's own eyes filled with tears. "We have four babies."

"I know. It's everything we always wanted."

"Yeah. True. True. But, Diana, we have four babies."

"I know. I can't wait for Mother and my sisters to see them."

"Ah, huh. Diana, honey, we have _four_ babies. Four _godly blessed_ babies."

She laughed as the thought of raising four super-powered children had her husband turning stark white.

She kissed the foreheads of their children – three girls and one boy. "I know, isn't it wonderful."

Kal, too, began to laugh his joy, and Diana had never heard a sweeter sound.

"No, my love, it's super. Happy Valentine's Day to us all."

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I wanted to pen a little something for Valentine's Day with Clark and Diana. From somewhere, I don't know where, the idea for his fic arose. The story turned out better than I thought, so I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you. For those of you who reviewed, thank you very much. I always appreciate knowing when a reader finds reading pleasure in my stories.

Thanks again for reading.


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